


Two Unattached Alphas in Unincorporated Willowtown

by RoughDraftHero



Series: ABO Shorts [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dom/sub, Domestic, M/M, Marking, Mates, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:11:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8800369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoughDraftHero/pseuds/RoughDraftHero
Summary: Hank and John live at the edge of a pack, content together, sort of.





	

**Author's Note:**

> once again, posting on phone...
> 
> i wrote most of this a long time ago and just wanted it off the wip list

Hank didn't really notice the girl stuck between him and the liquor section until he caught the movement of her sliding a cell phone from her purse, fingers clenched around it as she tapped on the screen. Even if he wasn't the best at reading human body language, he could definitely  _ smell  _ her apprehension. Swallowing, he awkwardly stared at the 40s for another second before turning and shuffling his big body out of the girl's way, cursing himself under his breath.  

He found John a few aisles down, looking from one pack of ramen to another. John was still in his work outfit—worn, red plaid shirt and jeans, and his usually curly hair was matted from being under a safety helmet all day. When Hank approached, John glanced up, his stubbled cheeks red with sunburn. "Chicken or Beef?" 

"Whichever," Hank mumbled in reply, "let's just get out of here." 

Knowing John wouldn't let that tone pass, Hank snatched the ramen and headed for the cash registers himself as the other man's footsteps thudded behind him. Of course, John didn't say anything—just eyed Hank closely as he tossed a couple of bills on the counter. 

Their apartment complex was in eyesight by the time John finally clamped a hand down on Hank's shoulder. "Ok," he said. "What's the deal? I know you don't expect me to survive on one pack of soup." 

"We'll order pizza."

"Sure. After you tell me what the hell happened in there." 

Hank's face was all twisted up in a scowl, he was chewing on the inside of his cheek. With  a sharp exhale, he closed his eyes and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Just some human chick in there—scared of me." Once the words were out, he relaxed, and felt the slow, familiar wash of apathy through his body. No matter how he thought he held himself, humans still had an innate sense for predators stronger than them, especially aggressive ones. 

John was still holding his shoulder, and gave him a squeeze. "Pizza. Got it." 

At the apartment, full up on Meat Lovers and cheap beer, Hank burped as he swung his chair's footrest open and leaned back. "Better?" John asked. He was on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table which was piled high with old paper plates and empty cans.

"Better." Football played on the silent TV. 

John was also quiet for a moment. And then he cleared his throat. "See that blond sitting next to Jared's cousin?" 

At the pack meeting that afternoon, a monthly event that Hank and John were required to attend and check in with their mid-level Alpha overseer, there had been an unfamiliar young man. Hank had spent most of the meeting staring at him—omegas usually didn't show up at the meeting, not with so many unattached Alphas and Betas roaming around. This one was cute… and so totally, obviously wrapped up in the cousin.   

Hank sported a weak smirk. "What a brat."

There was a dim flash in John's eyes. "Lucky bastard, that cousin." His tone was flat. 

"Mm." Hank shifted his ass down a little more, and palmed himself. "He knows it. Man—when he put that cutie on his lap, thought my teeth were gonna pop." He was already growling at the memory. Sweet little blond, must have been an import from some other pack. Hank had never seen him before, and he was just blushing and wiggling around as Alpha Jared's cousin petted him. "Fuck." Hank's hips jerked up a little. He undid his fly. 

John snarled from the couch. His eyes were dark as he watched Hank. "Think they're fucking right now?"

"Hell yeah," Hank replied. "That brat's probably a sloppy mess already." 

It took about two steps for John to reach Hank, and then he got Hank's neck before Hank could get to his, biting down and growling low in his throat. Like every night, they tussled right off the lounger without noticing, ripping each other's clothes away and both putting in a good fight for top. This time, it was Hank getting fucked across the carpet. He should have known how pent up John was—the gentle giant was rarely the one to bring up omegas they happened to see. Too depressing. 

Hank liked to talk dirty about all of them. Mated ones. Ones twenty years older than he was. It's not like he'd ever get to touch an omega, so why shouldn't he fuck them all in his mind? 

But no omega was in his thoughts as John pressed Hank's cheek down on the carpet. Just the burning need to turn the tables, and he definitely would. 

Two alpha wolves. One apartment. Complete bachelor loserdom. Well. Maybe Hank and John were in a relationship. They fucked. Sometimes even, when they were tired and weren't thinking straight, they sat close on the couch and nodded off together, knuckles touching, as the TV blared. If they were  _ drunk,  _ there may have even been some slurred words of affection. 

And with that closeness came the singular need they both felt powerfully.

But there was nothing they could do about it. After growing up together in the Snellsville pack, they were both kicked out after graduating high school. Wasn't anything cruel about that—all alpha wolves were thrown out once they started showing their true colors. 

Problem was, there were more alphas out there than there was land. Or packs, for that matter. 

Sure, Hank and John tried to strike out on their own. But they had been run out of towns and threatened and starved, and finally they just gave up and roamed from place to place earning enough to eat. For a while there, they just stayed shifted as wolves and lived in the mountains till they started to crave fried chicken and bad television. 

They found Willowtown at that point. Large pack, several layers of leadership, but most importantly: willing to let two unattached alphas lurk around the periphery, sometimes allowed at pack functions as long as they promised to behave themselves. Hank and John weren't stupid, they knew the first year was a trial period, and they had dutifully stayed quiet. 

After that, the pack was pretty welcoming, just as long as Hank and John didn't fuck up.  

****

Another month passed since the pack meeting. 

Hank stared at the inspiring-phrase-a-day calendar the realty company handed out at the New Years party. He and John would have to drive over to the Willowtown community center that night and sit on creaky fold-out chairs as Alpha Jared spent an hour droning on about pack news. Then they would have to meet up with a werewolf's equivalent of a probation officer and list what they had done and where they had gone that month. 

Which had been nowhere. Like every month, he and John had gone to work, come back to their apartment, fucked, and went to bed. It worked for them well enough. 

There was a rap on Hank's cubicle wall, drawing him from his thoughts. Another agent, a human named Cynthia, was leaning over the wall with her arms crossed on the ledge. She had a sympathetic smile on her face. "Heard about Tom." 

"Yeah." Hank sighed again, letting the pages of the calendar drop. "Asshole." 

"I can't believe he only comes in once a week, and thinks it's okay to farm your area. You already had bus stop bench ads up."  

Hank scowled at the memory of those bus ads. He had cut his shaggy blond hair before becoming a realtor, and that sucked—but keeping his face clean-shaven and his usually thick eyebrows plucked was a few steps below his comfort zone. Unfortunately, the ads were a hit, with several people calling in just to flirt with him, so he decided to keep the look for the sake of income. That was until Tom started honing in.  

With a growl, Hank said, "there won't be a problem unless he gets a bite. If that happens, I'm pissing all over his office." 

Cynthia's eyes sparkled. "I'd love to see that—well, hear about it afterwards, anyway."  

They both laughed and moved to another topic when the doors to the office swung open and Tom Gillman walked through. He was an agent at retirement age who had been rewarded with the private office for making the most sales in the branch, but he never came into work. None of this had bothered Hank until the man started gunning for all of his neighborhoods. 

Too bad werewolf law wasn't applicable to crusty old humans. Hank would have torn him to shreds. 

"Well, adios," Cynthia said, and Hank waved her off. He grinned when she stuck her tongue out at Tom's back. Humans weren't so bad, at least not Cynthia, who had talked Hank through getting licensed. 

Fighting the urge to ruffle his gelled hair, Hank got back to work. At four, he gave up. Outside, the sun had already set, which meant John was probably done, so Hank tossed his coat on and headed out to the lot. Willowtown was a sprawling urban and suburban mess, and made Hank's skin itch with the need to flee, but after awhile, he had gotten used to the crowds and the traffic. 

It helped to have John has a calming influence.

That's what Hank thought as he watched his partner-pack-whatever you want to call it but not  _ boyfriend  _ walk towards the street with his long strided gait. Behind him was the nearly finished renovation of the city library.

The car door swung open. "Work's dried up," John said, scowling as he leaned into the truck. He always said this, though. 

Hank checked over his shoulder, and then pulled away from the curb. "There'll be more." 

"Nah, this is it. City's run out of money." 

With that announcement, the conversation lulled. Lights streamed by them in the night, and it started to drizzle. "Fucking pack meeting," Hank muttered. "Think that blond will be there?"

When John didn't answer, Hank glanced over to see him resting his head back, eyes closed. "Sure," he said finally. 

"Maybe he has a brother," Hank said a little leadingly. "One who likes to break the rules." 

"Break the rules, huh?"

"Yeah. Likes to piss off his parents. He'll shack up with two dead-beat, packless Alphas." 

"We're not dead-beat." There was a pause, and then: "So what would we do with an omega like that?" 

"A bratty one?" Hank replied with a grin. 

That got a chuckle out of John. "Yeah." 

"You know exactly what we'd do." 

"How's the office?"

So, John didn't want to play the game. Hank got that, he did. Sometimes the reality caught up with both of them, how pathetic it was to imagine an omega choosing to come into their lives and accept John and Hank together as his dominant mates. Wanting it, even. 

"Fine enough," Hank said. "The Victorian on March Street closes in a few days, big check there." 

"Congratulations." 

John sounded weary, but not mean-spirited. The nature of both their jobs was similar; feast or famine, and never at the same time, which probably worked in their favor. Still, it was grating to be the dependant one during the lean months, and Hank kind of enjoyed being the current breadwinner. "Thank you," he said, and then with a playful tone, continued, "so how are you going to make up for your end of the utilities?"

"You tell me." 

"Remember how that blond was acting?"

John grunted, which told Hank he would be getting exactly what he wanted that night after the pack meeting, but only under extreme duress.  

****

"Alright, alright, alright." The door swung shut, cutting off John's nagging about the time, and Hank hustled down the stairs with a trash bag thrown over his shoulder. He cursed as the rain hit his suit, and quickly tossed the bag into the dumpster. Just as he was about to turn and make a run for it back to the apartment, he paused. 

He thought he had heard a sniffle. 

When no other noise was heard, he almost walked away, but there it was again: the softest little sniffle. 

On the other side of the dumpster was the apartment complex's parking lot. He walked around it, and there huddled down against a brick wall separating the two was a blue-haired black kid wearing a black hoodie and Vans shoes. His slender arms were wrapped around his knees. 

"Hey—" Hank began. But then he sniffed.  _ Wolf.  _

On the second sniff:  _ Omega.  _ All of Hank's senses seemed to shut down. 

Bright yellow-flecked brown eyes flashed up in surprise at him. "Who are you?"

Now that Hank could see the boy's face, he had to swallow a lump in his throat. But then a slow, smoldering sense of anger washed over him. 

_ He isn't for you.  _

"No. Who are  _ you _ ?" Hank growled. "These two blocks were awarded to me. You're trespassing." 

The boy's eyes widened and he sprang up to his feet, the top of his head coming only to Hank's chin. "Oh my god, I am so sorry." He had an adorable lisp. Hank took a step back. "I'm not from here… I didn't know there was a pack." 

His black jeans were cinched in low on his waist with a belt that had a car seat buckle. He had colorful plastic bracelets on his arms, tons of them. There was a metal ring piercing in his left nostril. Where his pants hugged his hips, his shirt rode up, exposing the brown skin of his belly. He was drenched. He was a sad, wet little puppy. 

Inexplicably, Hank got even more angry. "Seriously? Has that excuse ever flown? You can smell the pack lines when you cross over." 

The boy fucking  _ whimpered,  _ dropping his gaze. "I'm sorry, Alpha." 

A chill ran down Hank's spine. His mouth was dry suddenly. "Well," he rumbled. "If you're travelling, you should know better." 

Nodding, the boy looked up at him from under thick eyelashes. "I'm not really travelling. I got kicked out… I don't know where to go." 

"You?" Hank blinked. "You were kicked out of a pack?"

The boy got a little puffed up at that, sticking his chin out. "Yeah? So?" 

Hank felt something deep inside him wake at the attitude in the boy's voice. Something aggressive. But like a flame without tinder, it vanished. He licked his lips, stuffed his hands into his pockets and took another step back. "So nothing. If you plan to stick around Willowstown, then go on and find Alpha Jared and say hello. He's the owner of the hardware store downtown." 

With that, Hank spun on his heel and strode back towards his ground floor apartment.  _ No, no, no _ he did not hear the patter of footsteps behind him, did not scent an omega wolf closing in, no. Just  _ no. _

"Wait!" 

Hank ignored the plea. He got to his door and twisted the knob. He stepped inside, saw John in the entry slipping a boot on, saw John's eyebrows rise in question as he looked at something beyond Hank's shoulder— _ shit.  _

Hank turned and growled. "Get!" 

The boy went off like a firecracker: "Wait! My name's Evan, I'm twenty-one years old, I'm a student at Hesh Community College—well actually I dropped out—but, um, Sir, I'm hungry…" He trailed off a little at the end there. 

Hank had frozen at  _ Sir.  _

John came up beside him. "Who's your pack?"

"Was Hesh." 

Not recognizing that name, and not really caring, Hank retreated into the apartment, hiding around the hallway corner to listen John handle the little intruder. 

" _ Was _ Hesh?"

"Are you fucking deaf? I already said!" 

Hank let out a rough breath. He could sense John's pause as well. He knew exactly what John was feeling—fear of touching this boy they had no right to touch, nor dominate—even with such such a bratty attitude on display.  

"Look," John said. "Go on and find Alpha Ja—" 

"Yeah, yeah, I heard already. Jesus Christ. I'm starving, I can  _ smell  _ the food you two losers got in there, but no… can't share. So fucking typical." 

Any last illusion of innocence was gone. This was a grade-A omega brat standing on their doorstep. Hank growled low in his throat. But the sound died, and he clenched his hands into fists and looked down at his feet. He was hiding. He was hiding from a homeless omega younger than himself. 

But any minute now, surely, the cavalry would come. A whole pack of betas and even the alpha to come bring their wayward omega home. Or maybe there was a unattached but rich alpha out there who had paid a high sum for this kid, and who was now wondering where his prize was. 

He heard John sigh. "I'll grab you some chips." 

"But I'm tired, too." 

Hank could just picture the flash of irritation on John's face before he buried  _ that _ urge just like Hank had. "What are you asking us for, kid? Spit it all out now so we can stop babbling here." 

"I want a place to stay for a few nights, and some food." 

"Fine—" 

" _ And. _ " 

Hank's breath caught in his throat. There was something about the way that kid had said… 

"And," the kid repeated. "My heat’s starting." 

****

"Fuck. Fuck.  _ Fuck. _ " 

Hank and John stood in their bedroom. 

There was an omega in their kitchen eating Fruit Loops. 

Sitting on the bed, Hank held his head in his hands. "His heat…? His  _ heat _ ? His fucking heat?"

"Calm down." John stood above him, arms crossed. "We’ll call Jared. We’ll tell him what's going on. He'll deal with it." 

"I looked it up, John. Hesh Pack is five states over! That little twerp waited until the last second to lay this on some poor unsuspecting wolves—if that even really is his pack."

"You think he's lying?"

"No clue… I don't know how to read them." 

_Them,_ as in omegas. As in the branch of their species that Hank and John had no real world knowledge about, but a whole hell of a lot of fantasies. John was sliding his palms over his head. They were watching each other from the corners of their eyes. They both knew what the other was thinking. Their hearts were beating like crazy, there was an omega near heat in their kitchen, all _theirs_ , all— 

"No one knows where he is," Hank said, his voice barely audible. His hands were shaking. 

John stared at him. "That…" 

"Jared won't blink an eye if we took off, no one would care. We could—" Hank licked his lips, knowing he was starting to sound wild. "We could just take off with him." 

Living on the road with John and this cute omega, the idea was now firmly planted in Hank's mind. They would take the truck, the omega lodged in between Hank and John in the front seat, and just shoot down the 120 until they ran out of gas. Obviously the kid liked running, he was restless. He might be up for it. 

"Hank," John said after a swallow. Even though he was clearly trying to sound sensible, Hank could see the want in his eyes. "We've made a home here. And that Hesh pack will find this place, they'll blame Alpha Jared for letting us go with Evan. We owe him more than that." 

Hearing the omega's name made Hank flinch. He closed his eyes. This had all been a crazy fantasy, something he had been imagining long before Evan showed up next to the dumpster. It was unfair to drag him into something only Hank wanted. Evan didn't even know them. 

Just like that, Hank felt his usual apathy. With a sigh, he opened his eyes. "Call the Alpha," he said flatly. 

John nodded. 

In the kitchen, the omega was sprawled at the table, cradling the bowl of cereal in his palm and sipping the milk. He looked up with wide eyes when Hank walked in. 

Hank crossed his arms. "Name." 

"I told you already."  _ Slurp  _

"Real one. Now."

"How about no."  _ Slurp _

Gritting his teeth, Hank checked his watch. With that, he was the one to break eye-contact, and when he did, he heard a snort. His face burned. 

"Hank." John was leaning around the doorframe and holding his phone. "Should we just bring him with us to the pack meet?" 

There was a clack—the omega setting the bowl down. "Have you guys had dinner?" 

Hank turned his disbelieving gaze back to him. " _ What _ ?" 

"Well it's late, and I know how long those pack meets can run. You want food first, right?" He was smiling, hands braced on his knees. 

Involuntarily, Hank glanced at John, who was staring at the omega, and then opened his mouth to speak, only no words came out. He scratched his nose, cleared his throat, and then tried again. "You'll cook us something?" 

"...We have  _ some  _ time," John said gruffly. 

The omega's gold eyes flicked to him, and then back to Hank. "Awesome," he said, standing up. He hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, and made a show of looking over his shoulder at the junky kitchen, his raised eyebrows saying everything. "I'm pretty good at scrounging up something edible." 

That was how Hank found himself sitting across from John at a plastic table that wobbled if there wasn't a beer cap under the leg, both of them watching with rapt attention as the omega rustled around their kitchen. John still only had one boot on. 

"You guys have some chili powder?" The omega had his hip cocked, hands folded behind his head. He was looking inside one of Hank and John's pathetically empty cabinets. 

"Uh—yeah," John rumbled. "There's salt in the drawer there." 

Nimble brown fingers were searching through the anything-goes drawer, picking out fast food packets of salt and pepper. "This is just sad." 

It was sad. Hank agreed. 

"What's the point of having a human palette if you don't use it? Like seriously, I know some blow hards are all like—we need to go back to nature and eat raw deer carcass, or whatever. But, come on." He was tugging the zipper of his hoodie down as he spoke, shrugging out of it, and tossing it over the back of a chair. He was wearing a loose purple tank top, his well-shaped shoulders all the way down to his slender ribcage clearly visible.   

He had some frozen chicken tenders frying on the stove, and when he seemed satisfied with how they were doing, he turned and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. "So what are  _ your  _ names?" 

The omega was so fucking rude. But to be honest, Hank had never spent this much time with one. He wouldn't even know what to do if he  _ was _ allowed to address this attitude… well that might not be the case, there were instincts. He knew there were, he could feel them right then—instincts that had never surfaced before in his life. 

He placed his fists in his lap. "I'm Hank, this is John." 

"Oh." Footsteps approached and then suddenly instead of floor, John was looking down at the omega's cute face. He had placed his palms flat on Hank's thigh, he was kneeling down there and looking up at Hank… 

Hank exhaled. 

"My name really is Evan," the omega said. 

"All right, Evan. I believe you. Now get away from me." 

Those yellow eyes widened, and Evan stood up in a flurry, backing away until his ass hit the counter. "I'm sorry, Alpha." 

Hank had almost risen, worried that he had frightened Evan. But his legs failed him, and he just sat there with a straight back, frowning at the kid. "Are you really a Hesh Pack omega?" 

"Yeah." Turning with his back to them, Evan started nudging at the chicken with a spatula. "But they kicked me out." 

"You're lying." 

"I'm not—" 

There was a slam, and even Hank jumped. John had brought his fist down on the table, his expression dark. "You  _ are _ lying. No pack would kick out someone like—an omega like you would never get thrown out, it's impossible. And now you're here in our fucking shitty apartment making us food..." John got to his feet and left the kitchen before Hank could stop him. 

Evan was standing with his arms taut against his sides like he was trying to make himself look smaller. "What was that about?"

Hank considered him. "What do you think that was about?" 

John was the measured one. But maybe he was also the one who hadn't been able to bury his disappointment and loneliness as deeply as Hank. And Hank knew exactly what had set him off: having an adorable, untamed omega in their kitchen was torture. And off-limits. 

"Fuck…" Hank ruffled his hair with frustration. "You need to get out of here." 

"Right now?" Evan was worried, Hank could see that from the way he was playing with the hem of his shirt. 

"We'll drop you off at the meeting." Hank leaned back in his chair, resigned. "You know that we're charity cases, right? Outskirt Alphas." 

Evan blinked. "I've never met one." 

"Of course not," Hank laughed, knowing it sounded a little bitter, but not caring. "You delicate little flowers are kept away from us the second we show our nature. If I had some fucking cash, sure, they would be parading you cuties around like meat, but I'm piss poor, so no luck, right?"  

"Why do you say that like it's my fault?"

"I'm not." 

"You did. And you know what? The world doesn't owe you an omega." 

"I know that." Hank sank a little in his chair, and looked at his palm. "I do know that." Caught up in his own resignation, he took a moment to register Evan's tone. The omega was scowling, arms crossed tightly over his chest and Hank sat up again, bracing for impact. "Is there someone you're, uh, owed to?" 

Well that hit the nail on the head. Cheeks puffing, Evan whirled around and started attacking the pan with his spatula. There was a muttered “fuck no”, and Hank dropped his head back.  _ Shit.  _ Not only did they have a runaway on their hands, Evan was also promised to some alpha who had probably spent a shit-ton of money for him. "So you didn't like the guy." 

Another spin, Vans shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor. "I haven't even met him! He's my cousin's boss, he saw a shot of me on fucking Instagram. _Fuck._ " More hand-waving, more spatula gesturing. The kid wasn't losing steam. "Lyle was probably screwing around on the work computer and that asshole saw me on his feed or something? I had plans, you know."  

Hank reeled. He and John had a bought-and-paid-for omega ranting in their kitchen. They were so fucked. Absently, as he imagined being thrown out of yet another pack, he said, "Plans?"

"You know, transfer to a four year school. Get a job eventually." 

Dropping his head, Hank dragged his hands down his face. "College, huh." There was a state school three blocks down from his apartment. The kids there seemed to like it. Probably only took ten minutes or so to walk there. 

Hank would be shit at helping with homework. 

"Look," he said. "You know we're going to call your pack. There's no way around it." 

"Yeah, but what are they gonna do?"

That was a good question. Hank knew some packs were pretty manipulative with omegas. They would let them leave, of course. No pack had been allowed to keep omegas against their will for decades, but that didn't stop the unspoken practice of blacklisting them from any other pack and keeping them from finding work so they were left with no choice but to return. If Alpha Jared let Evan stay, he would be risking a bad reputation for harboring runaways. On the other hand, he already went against the grain, it seemed. He did let John and Hank into the pack, after all.

Two palms rested on Hank's shoulders and slowly guided him to sit back up. Hank felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs with Evan standing so close… touching him. "Even if you do call them, you're still forgetting that my heat starts soon." 

Hank started shaking his head mutely. He had not forgotten that  _ at all.  _

"Do you guys uh, wanna…" Evan was fidgeting a little, staring just left of Hank. "You know, get me through it?"

Opening his mouth to respond, Hank paused.  _ You guys?  _

"Both of us?" he croaked, "What kinda omega fantasy you got going in that head of yours?"

Evan smirked just a little, sliding his knee in between Hank's legs, but Hank could feel his hands shaking. Without thinking, Hank gripped the cutie's hips and pulled him even closer, and the little gasp was enough to make Hank's teeth pop. 

"Wow, shit," Evan said. "Mine don't get that big. Or sharp. Um." He was trembling even more, jerkily lowering himself to sit on Hank's thigh. Trying to look sexy, obviously nervous. Which was downright hilarious considering just how scared-as-hell he was making Hank feel at that moment, who retracted his teeth quickly and cleared his throat. 

"Get up," Hank ground out. 

"You're the one holding me." 

Oh, that. Hank had his arms around Evan's waist, one hand firmly resting on top of his thigh, and the other was kinda pressed flatly against his belly. Only a thin stretch of cheap fabric separated his palm from Evan's warm skin, and how easy would it be to slip the hem of that shirt up? How easy would it be to just touch?

He could hear John clomping down the hallway towards them, and suddenly, Hank  _ really  _ wanted him to see this—to see an omega in their home sitting on his lap and being so docile, so sweet. Hank knew John would like it.

And he wasn't wrong. John turned the corner, stopped in the doorway, and stared as his eyes went dark. Just for the show, Hank leaned back in the chair with a faked air of roguishness so that Evan looked even more appealing displayed against Hank's chest like that. 

"What are you doing?" John asked. His entire body was tense. 

"I don't know," Hank replied truthfully. And then: "He wants us for his heat." 

A low growl escaped John's throat. Seeing him like that when he was usually so restrained had Hank snarling himself, and he jerked his head, indicating for John to come closer. But then the little wolf on his lap started fidgeting again. 

"Um, okay. Uh. Wait." When Evan tried to shift away, Hank automatically gripped his arm. 

Evan went very still, his eyes locked on Hank and then moving up to John, who was looming over the two of them. 

Just like that, most of Hank's excitement shriveled in his core. He knew this was too good to be true—Evan was freaked out by the reality of inviting two alphas on his own to join his heat instead of following the usual pack procedures. Hank should have known better, he and John were older and more experienced than this kid, they were the ones responsible. He should have put an end to the heat discussion from the beginning. 

"Come on," he said gently, nudging Evan to stand up. He followed suit, thought better of it with he  _ and  _ John baring down on the omega, and sank back down into the chair again. "It's okay, little pup. We won't make you do anything, and Alpha Jared will have suppressants—" 

"No!" Evan gripped the front of his shirt, eyes flashing. He paused for a moment, seemed to be considering something, and then said, "No, I don't want to suppress my first heat." 

"Oh, christ," Hank muttered. "Your first?" He started chuckling. 

John frowned. "What?"

"What do you mean  _ what _ ?" Hank looked at him, smiling ruefully. "This has to be a joke. All those stories you hear about the trouble omegas cause, you start to think it's a little exaggerated, but then here we are! This guy runs off from his intended mate, crosses several state and pack lines without telling anyone, and then waits until the last minute to find another wolf for his heat. And assumes without question that we'll just accept that and do what he wants. The beautiful thing is, John, we can't touch him. You know we can't." 

"Hey," Evan cut over him. "I didn't wait until the last second. I've been watching you guys for a few—" He bit his lip, as if trying to keep the last word from coming out, and dropped his gaze. 

Hank balled his hand into a fist on the table. "What do you mean?" 

There was a very nervous and embarrassed omega shifting from one foot to the other in front of him. "Exactly what I said," Evan snapped. "I've been watching you guys. I really do want you for my heat." 

Hank looked at John. 

_ He had been watching them.  _ He had been hiding somewhere and watching as Hank and John went to work, went to the convenience store, went to rent movies from the Red Box, bought beer, stumbled home at 3AM, worked on their truck in the parking lot. And he had decided they were the two he wanted?

For once in his life, Hank couldn't read John's expression. He had become a pillar of silence, arms crossed over his broad chest. And for some reason, Hank couldn't look away—there was a force drawing into John, making him seem more solid. With steady eyes, he looked at Evan. "We’ll take care of your heat." 

Then he gestured for Hank to stand up, which he did immediately, only to realize John really did that so both of them were towering over Evan, who had gone still. 

"I already said that," Evan finally squeaked. He licked his lips and then did something that Hank took a second to realize was squaring his chest. "I'm doing you a  _ favor.  _ There's thousands of hard-up alphas out there who would kill for this. You should be grateful, so—so don't pull that condescending crap on me."

Well, he sure had their number. Hank was about to start babbling all over again about how he and John should get Evan to Alpha Jared when quick as a flash, John was past him and had Evan by the neck. 

"Shit, John—" Hank was gonna stop him, but then he saw the truly measured way John was holding Evan with a hand that could crush the air right out of that slender throat. 

Evan was panting, eyes bugged. He had reached up to hold John's wrist. His fingers looked so useless in contrast. If he started crying, Hank thought, that would be the end of it. But for the moment, he chose to trust what was going on. 

"You and your obedience may be worth a lot of money," John said, "And we don't have much, that's true. But the fact of the matter is, little pup, you walked into a confined space with two starved Alpha wolves."

Hank exhaled his amusement at those words. "He expected the red carpet, huh?" 

John nodded, still focused intently on Evan's face. The powerful lines of his body cast an arousing image, held in check like that as he easily dominated Evan. 

There was a tenseness to the air around them, but finally Evan's harsh breathing subsided, and he seemed to realize he could stand there quite safely—if maybe a little bit on his tip toes. He let go of John's wrist. 

"Good boy," John murmured. 

"Yeah, good boy," Hank echoed without thinking, sounding all too eager. 

Both Evan and John looked at him, and just like that a little snicker escaped Evan's lips, and then John was chuckling even with his arm extended, hand still wrapped around that beautiful neck. Hank cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, which earned more laughter until even he was smiling. "What?" he asked. "I've always wanted to say it someone who'd love it, unlike this bastard." He nodded towards John. 

"You guys would play submissive for each other?" Evan suddenly looked like the cat with the canary. "That's cute." 

"Cute?" John was clearly amused, all of his previous hard attitude gone. He was stroking the curve of Evan's throat, and Evan was leaning into the touch.

"Yeah, I've never seen an alpha act like me," Evan said. "Do you guys like doing that?"

Both John and Hank said "No," at the same time. 

And then Hank said, "Well, I do like seeing the look on his face when I act uh..." 

John looked over at him then, their eyes meeting. Hank grinned. "It's a pretty stupid look. Probably would look even more stupid if he was fucking a real omega." 

And just when Hank had gotten his teeth all under control. John was giving him that penetrating dark look, the one that said he needed to fuck something badly, and Evan was right there down at the other end of John's arm, looking all wiggly and shit.

His cut his lip with how fast his teeth popped again. "Fuck." 

"Let go!" Evan smacked John's arm, who seemed surprised, releasing his grip. 

Before he knew what was happening, Hank was jerked down to Evan's level and faced with the omega's close inspection and a gentle thumb swiping over his lip. "Just a scrape," Evan huffed. 

Wasn't in the plan, but hell—  

Hank kissed the boy. 

And yeah, he's heard about the fireworks and the clouds parting, and whatever, but fuck. 

That feeling when a little wolf just melts against your touch... Hank knew then just why all the rich alpha blowhards spent their last dime on these babies, these cuties, these soft, sweet, delicious— _ oh fuck  _ he was screwed, he was pulling Evan closer, and he was growling a warning that Evan better fucking open his mouth. He did. Eagerly. Hank could feel the eagerness, and he could also feel wet hot need, he could feel Evan's  _ need.  _

He nearly laughed at the kid when Evan suddenly tried to balk, tried to shy away from Hank, only to back into John's solid chest. Those brown eyes widened at the obvious realization that he was boxed in.   

"Where are you going?" Hank teased gently, sliding a hand over Evan's cheek. 

Evan was shivering. He was also rubbing kinda urgently against his front. 

"T—touch me."   

There was a snarl, from John this time. He reached right around with his big arm and cupped Evan's junk all direct-like and without pause. Hank exhaled roughly at that, watching his mate take the boy in hand. 

Whimpering, Evan grabbed the front of his shirt, scrunching it tightly as he panted. His gaze was fixated on what John was doing to him—which at the moment was just slowly,  _ slowly  _ massaging. Evan rolled his hips with each squeeze, and started begging, "Please, oh please, oh." 

_ Begging.  _ Hank was near frozen just watching it, watching the way Evan was. He  _ loved  _ this. He wasn't just tolerating being pinned down and out of control like Hank and John did for each other, he was eating this up, he was flushed, he was holding on to John's arm like he might start crying if it was taken away from him.

"What is all this anyway?" Hank said, tugging at Evan's bracelets. "You're dressed like some mopey teenager."

A sullen look passed over Evan's face, but he was clearly in no position to argue. All he could manage to get out was, "Nn—no." 

Hank snorted. "And this?" He flicked at Evan's nose ring. 

For just a second, Hank saw a suspicion in Evan's eyes that he didn't like. There was a tinge of disappointment there too. So he grabbed the boy's chin, tilted his head up, and pressed a kiss against the side of Evan's nose, sliding his tongue over where the ring penetrated Evan's skin. 

Evan cried out a little. When Hank pulled back, and their eyes met, he liked what he saw a whole lot more than that suspicion. He glanced at John, they exchanged a look that said they were thinking the same thing. 

For at least that night, Evan belonged to them.      

Together they lifted the tiny thing up. He was a leaf, trembling, and yet hot, hot, hot. A furnace. His heat was starting. “You really tried to hold out, huh?” Hank teased as they carried him to the bedroom.

“Shut up,” Evan murmured. He was nuzzling against John’s pit as much as he could, blissed out on scent. Hank had a firm grip on his legs, and was having a good time feeling up those tight, flexing thighs.

They deposited Evan on the bed and made short work of his clothes, both Hank and John working with silent efficiency that must have intimidated the omega. Naked, he was dusky brown with little dark nipples that Hank wanted to nip. Everything about him was delicate and cute in a way that John and Hank had always wanted to try touching but never had the chance. 

“Fuck,” Hank breathed. 

Even the omega’s cock was sweet.

He bet it would taste sweet too. He slid one knee onto the bed, resting a hand on Evan’s shaking thigh, and gently directing him to spread. To John, he said, “Describe it to me,” before taking Evan’s cock and licking the tip. 

First John exhaled a husky breath, gathered himself, and spoke with a rough voice. “He’s blushing.” Evan whimpered. Hank took him further in, huffing warm breath against his velvety skin. Reaching under, Hank cupped his ass, groping and moaning as he sucked the boy. 

_ Let’s get him pregnant,  _ his mind wildly demanded. 

Strong hands started rubbing his back, John standing behind him. And then his shirt was being tugged up, so he popped off Evan’s cock just long enough for John to pull it over his head and took the moment to get an eyeful of his boy. Evan was stretched out, head thrown back, and lips parted. His chest was flushed, belly tight as he clawed his fingers into the sheets. Clearly, he was overwhelmed and trying to distance himself. And clearly that was not gonna happen. 

“Look at me, boy,” Hank growled. Evan’s eyes popped open, surprise on his face, probably from hearing  _ Hank  _ sound serious. 

He gaped as John, naked, came around and sat beside him, hand fanning over his slender chest. “We should tie him down,” John said. 

Hank almost chuckled. Evan wouldn’t know it, but he’d gotten John mega-horny now, and he’d be insatiable. “Let’s leave ropes for another time, baby. I think this boy just needs a good dicking through his heat.” 

Evan whimpered again. Both alphas looked at him, eyebrows cocked. He was completely flushed, sweet cock engorged. There was a slick, damp mess between his asscheeks. Hank was definitely satisfied knowing that, with two alphas at hand, this omega would be knotted pretty much non-stop through the night. 

“You scared?” he asked Evan.

“Mmm.” 

Incoherent, but his eyes didn’t transmit any (well... _ much _ ) fear. He was just sort of spreading his legs, and nudging against John as much as he could. What would make him feel even better? 

Hank crowded over him, grabbing him by the hips and jerking him downwards so that his legs framed Hank, and his ass rested tilted up on Hank’s lap. 

Heat scent hit him like a ton of bricks. A growl escaped his lips, and he heard John growl as well, shifting over to take Evan’s arms and hold them above his head so that he was stretched out between them.  _ Their theirs theirs.  _ He was theirs for the taking, with no other wolf coming to save him. 

Hank would mark him up. He’d knot him and breed him soundly. Forget packs, forget school for Evan. Or whatever else. 

Smiling wryly, Hank shook his head to rid himself of those crazy thoughts. Or not. Why not think them for just tonight? Wouldn’t that be fun?

He dove forward, bending Evan in half, to snarl in his pretty face.  _ Be obedient,  _ his growls said, his canines sharpening. 

Evan nodded, drawing his knees to his chest so that he was open and ready for Hank. “Please,” he begged. 

Hank ripped his fly open, pulled out his cock, and pressed up against Evan’s hole. His gaze was hyper-focused on Evan’s flickering expressions of pain and need as he pushed forward. 

They both fucked him. Hard. 

Hank didn’t know when he, or John, or Evan lost themselves, but at some point all three were just sweaty, panting machines running on instincts. Any time Evan got out of line, he’d be snapped at, and he’d fall back into line. Whenever he cried out, Hank and John would readjust to a slower, gentler pace, only to build back up again to a roaring frenzy. 

John seemed to like fucking him from the back, bending him over the bed and slapping his ass while pounding him until the knot caught and Evan was stuffed, gasping his way through burst after burst of cum. 

Hank liked that too, but he also liked having Evan cradled against John’s chest, knees pressed up, sitting on Hank’s cock as John and Hank swapped spit over his head. He was crushed between them, a fiery ball of heat made purely to swallow Hank’s cock. 

Who the fuck knows when they actually passed out. 

****

Later on, while Evan slept peacefully in their room, Hank and John sat in the kitchen with a pot of coffee. 

“That was so damn good,” Hank finally said. 

John nodded, gaze distant. 

“I want to keep him,” Hank continued. “For fucking, and you know, making our own little pack.” 

Finally John met his eyes. “We don’t have the money.” 

“So just be grateful for what we got?” Hank scoffed. “I already feel like he’s ours, I don’t fucking know if I’ll be able to let him walk outta here.”

John nodded again. “I’d stop him.” 

Inside, where his wolf lay not-so-dormant, Hank had the distinct feeling that if Evan tried to leave them, or if someone came to get him, there would be blood spilled. Like Hank would take the omega to the ground, and mark him on the throat so that the whole business would be settled. But that wasn’t what Evan had said. He’d wanted a pair of alphas to get him through his first heat. Two overbearing sticks in the mud who’d redden his ass over any sass he gave? 

Hank just knew John would be a stern mate. He’d keep Evan toeing the line, getting schoolwork done early, and finding a job at the mall or something.  _ Fuck.  _ The three of them would have a helluva time with each other, fucking and playing and living life. 

The doorbell rang, drawing Hank from his wishful thinking. 

It was Alpha Jared, a bulky wolf in his fifties, who didn’t wait for someone to answer. He just came through to the kitchen, and crossed his arms over his chest. “So?” 

Hank glanced at John, and got the distinct feeling that a call was never made. 

“So, we didn’t make it to the pack meeting today,” John said plainly, without attitude.

Jared nodded. “You got a good reason for that?” Before they could answer, a strange expression crossed over his face, and he sniffed deeply. Then he stood straight with a growl. “Where is he?”

Hank and John rose. “Alpha…” Hank said slowly. 

“No. Fuck no. You’ve got an omega here?” 

Suddenly it occurred to Hank that Jared thought they were keeping an omega against his will, which considering the circumstances wasn’t that unbelievable. They were poor and packless, and the idea of an omega willingly being with them was ridiculous. 

“He’s asleep,” Hank said quickly. “And fine. He came to us.” 

Jared narrowed his eyes, but some of the fury left his stance. “Bring him out.” 

John went to get Evan while Hank stood there awkwardly. When he heard footsteps again, he saw John had simply picked the sleeping, naked Evan up, cradling him close to his chest. 

“Fuck…” Jared murmured. “That’s the kid who ran from Hesh pack. Why didn’t you tell me he was here? Are you guys really that desperate?” 

Hank looked down at the ground. An alpha with a pack and an omega would never understand. “Wake him up, John,” he said softly. 

Evan came slowly to wakefulness, his feet dropping to the ground as he held onto John’s shirt and stared balefully at Jared. His skin was still flushed, sweat beading on his forehead, but he was unashamed of his nakedness.

“Perfect,” Jared muttered. “He’s in heat.”

“My first,” Evan said, moving even closer to John. “And they fucked me for hours.” There was something triumphant in his tone and Hank was confused. 

Of all things, Jared looked amused. “And you wanted that, you little brat?”

Evan nodded.

Jared laughed and sighed. “Hesh was so desperate to find him because the deal they struck with the suiter alpha had a first-time clause.” 

“Fuckers,” Evan said. He was smirking. 

“How bad a spot does this put you in?” Hank asked. Jared had done them so many favors, and it would kill him to know he’d sparked some pack war by fucking an omega. 

But Jared just smiled. “Do you think I’d hand this kid over if he didn’t want to go? I thought by now you guys understood what kind of alpha I am.”

“A good one,” John said. 

“You lucky bastards…” Jared shook his head. “Anyway, I may be a good alpha, but I won’t permit slacking. You two show up at the next pack meeting.” He paused, and looked at Evan. “And bring the brat if he’s still around.” 

With that pronouncement, he left. 

Hank swung on Evan so fast that the omega flinched, so he pulled back a little. “Killed two birds with one stone, huh?” he snarled.

“Well…” Evan said, defiance seeping into his voice. “Two stones.” He glanced slyly at John. 

That didn’t fly. John grabbed him by the shoulder and laid a smack on his ass so sharp that even Hank winced as Evan cried out. 

“Explain yourself,” John said.

Evan pouted for barely a second before seeming to think better of it with Hank and John scowling down at him. “They tried to keep that stupid clause from me, but the second I heard about it, I started planning. I had to run at the right moment, you know?”

“Well I’m so glad our cocks were able to free you from a life of luxury,” Hank drawled, failing at hiding the hurt in his voice. He’d barely known this kid for a day, and he was already… “And so sorry you had to slum it just for that.”

Evan looked confused. He looked like he needed hugs and cuddles, but now Hank knew better. “I--I,” Evan stammered. 

John had moved away from him, his hand reaching out for nothing. He really looked like a lost little pup that Hank needed to protect, and that just really burned. “What’s your plan now?” he asked. 

Evan blinked. “Plan? Are we not gonna…” He gestured vaguely towards the bedroom. 

“I don’t really feel like fucking you anymore,” Hank lied. Like obviously lied. 

But Evan still looked struck all the same. “Why not?”

John responded. “You’re not ours and you don’t want to be ours. If we keep fucking you tonight, Evan, then we won’t be able to let you leave.” 

Well he just had to go and be honest, didn’t he? Hank wanted to keep some dignity, but apparently that wasn’t gonna happen. 

Going very still, Evan looked from Hank to John, and then back again. “Hold up. Have you morons  _ not  _ been listening to me at all? I just spent the past two weeks hiding behind a dumpster just so I could watch you. I  _ want  _ to be a part of your pack!” His last words were said with a cry, his eyes wet. 

Hank was frozen. He watched as Evan angrily wiped at his face. “I mean, god damn, you two spineless fucks are just gonna let me walk away, huh? Fine, I’ll just find some other alpha to fuck me--” 

He,  _ obviously _ , was not allowed to finish that sentence. 

Hank and John took a long time loving him that week, each going mournfully off to work at different times so that the other could keep little Evan knotted. And by the end of it, Evan was marked not once, but twice on his throat. 

And a few weeks later, he was enrolled at the local college.

  
  


 


End file.
